


Slumber Party

by DeutchRemy



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: post gate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeutchRemy/pseuds/DeutchRemy
Summary: If a fly on the wall had ears, what would it hear?  A short, simple piece about the sounds of sleep at an unplanned slumber party after an eventful and traumatic night.  Post-gate.  Season 2.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	Slumber Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caffinatedcollectorduck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffinatedcollectorduck/gifts).



> I'm sure flies do have ears but I like the rhyme so decided to go with it.
> 
> This is a gift for caffinatedcollectorduck, as an apology for being so inactive on here lately.

Someone yawns.

Another sighs loudly.

There’s a rustle of sleeping bag as one child shifts, trying to find a comfortable side to lie on.

The couch creaks as an exhausted boy rolls over.

A loud scritching as someone aggressively scratches their scalp.

The window is open, and outside the screen is the sound of one cricket taking advantage of the warm autumn, though his tune is slow. Inside the screen are the sounds of a group of eleven people trying to get a few hours of shuteye after an extraordinary night. 

There’s another sigh, the deep one of someone who just can’t get to sleep.

Another rustle of blanket as a curly-haired girl rolls over and tucks herself into a huge man; a low manly oof as her head hits his sternum.

A teenage boy with a battered face coughs from his chair in the corner of the room.

A girl with a head of flame startles at the noise then huffs loudly, having been just on the precipice of sleep.

There’s a fart that originates from one of the members of the boy trio. And another one.

Two boys groan as another struggles out of their blanket cocoon, whispering: “Have to poop.”

One whispers back: “You better clean your ass well if you wanna get back under these blankets.”

A loud SHHHHHH from the big man silences the room again.

The sound of bare feet on carpet disappearing down the hall. The flick of the bathroom light switch and the accompanying loud whir of the fan, which is muted when the door clicks shut.

More blanket-rustling as somebody is unable to keep their feet still.

Even more blanket-rustling and concerned mumbles as the boy on the couch sits straight up, gasping and coughing.

A woman’s calm, quiet reassurances, to the boy: “It’s okay, baby. Just a dream, that’s all. Just a dream. Shhhhh…”

The sound of deep, nervous breathing from all those in the room, except the girl with the short curls, who’s still out like a light.

Flush goes the toilet.

Feet on the carpet again, a loud rustling, and boys grumbling. A mumbled "Sorry".

Hours later…

The room is silent, save for quiet breathing and the persistent cricket outside the window. No more rustling of blankets, no tossing and turning children. 

The girl with the curls wakes slowly, disoriented, and taps the man on the forehead, then whispers something into his ear. He mumbles “Mmkay, I’ll help you” in response, then the rustling of blankets again as he helps her stand and guides her through the minefield of people, holding her up with his hands under her armpits.

Her quiet, shaky voice: “M’gonna fall…”

“No no no, I won’t let you fall. I gotcha.”

Feet on the carpet, very slow this time. The bathroom light and fan turn on.

More rustling as the woman stirs in her sleep and reaches out a hand to pat the man’s empty blankets.

She whispers: “Hop?”

The toilet flushes again. More feet on the carpet.

The woman whispers "Everything okay?" as the girl and man lie back down.

"Yeah, she just had to pee."

The teenage boy suddenly moans out loud and covers his face with his hands.

"He okay?" The woman whispers to the man.

"Yeah, I - I think he's dreaming. No, don't wake him up. Let him rest."

Silence reigns again for another several hours...

The other teenage boy rises with the sun. He tries to keep the noise level down in the kitchen, but sounds of breakfast being made are unavoidable:

Squeaky cabinets are opened.

Water is run.

A mixing bowl is dropped on the linoleum and a curse is uttered.

The fridge is opened and closed.

The stovetop burner makes a tick tick tick tick as the gas is lit.

Pancakes sizzle and are flipped with the sound of metal spatula on metal pan.

The woman rises next with a stretch and a low groan as her back protests having spent the night on the floor. She checks on the boy on the couch, then there's a shuffling sound as she makes her way into the kitchen and kisses the teenage one. There's more shuffling, a door opening and closing, and the shower is turned on.

The blanket-rustling has returned with a vengeance as the boys in the cocoon toss and turn in the early stages of wakefulness.

"Stop hogging the blankets." One of them whispers fiercely to another.

"How can I be hogging the blankets if I'm in the middle and both of you are covered?" The boy with the lisp snips back.

"Whatever. I can't get back to sleep anyway with that damn kitchen light on."

"Don't be rude, Lucas. I think he's making us breakfast."

"Yeah, for that you don't get any, Lucas." The boy with the lisp again.

"Hey!" The fire-haired girl hisses. "All three of you - shut up. The rest of us are trying to sleep."

Twenty minutes later...

"Who turned the damn TV on?" The man whispers gruffly.

"I can't sleep anymore!" The boy with the lisp complains. "I'll turn it down to low."

"You will turn it off right now. El needs her sleep. So does Will."

"Dammit, Dustin, just turn it off!" The boy with the black hair grabs the remote control from his friend and turns the set off.

"Fine. Jeez."

"Will you stalkers please be quiet?" The redhead is awake now and slapping her blankets to emphasize her point.

"It's not us, it's Dustin!"

"Okay, shitheads!" The teenager in the chair whispers fiercely, "I'm gonna count to three, and if you haven't all shut up by then, I will literally drag you out onto the porch."

Silence, and then:

"I think Steve's superhero power is turning into supermom when he gets hit on the head."

"Shut up, Dustin."


End file.
